


When Being Okay is Living

by Star_Nymph



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, Nightwing (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Sexual Assault, and RTS, deals with canon rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1287691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Nymph/pseuds/Star_Nymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are nights when he can pretend to be okay. Laugh, smile, and fly away like the free bird he is. Not tonight; he’s not okay tonight. And he’s not sure if he should be lucky when Kory’s the one to notice just how ‘not okay’ he really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Being Okay is Living

There are nights where it’s not so hard to push it back because he’s free and he’s flying and he’s got someone’s voice in his ear to keep him focused. Those are most nights and Dick thinks those are great nights because, normally and somehow, they are.

Then there are the nights where it’s too hard; where the rain is falling like bullets and the lights on the streets have been drowned out and something—someone, someplace—touched him in a passing manner, but it sends convulsions up his spine and down his arms and he wants to bang against every solid surface begging ‘Please, stop’. Tonight was one of those nights—Dick thought he could push it back, but as soon as he collapses on the roof and vomiteshis lunch over the side of the building, he knows it’s not going to be easy.

He doesn’t get it. It was just Harley Quinn. The woman is always doing some playful stunt during her escapes and it wasn’t anything like when she pulled out the gun with the boxing glove for a bullet and nearly took his head off. They had been bantering it up, flipping off skyscrapers. Dick swerved downward and knocked her off her feet; plan was to get her down, zip her up, and drop her, packaged and ready, to book in front of the nearest police station. But she had gotten out of his grasp and instead tackled him, packing a harder punch than he expected.

Down they went to the wet, slimy surface. His head collided with the ground, shaking his vision, making him see stars as he cursed out loud.

Harley had slipped on top of him, straddling his legs, giggling with her hands curled against his shoulders.

(It was all just fun and games)

“Hey, hey—don’t ya worry, ya big baby. Everything’s s’kay.” He could hear the smile on her red, red lips, “All okay; don’t be a baby, it’s just a bump.”

(The red on her suit bleeds to orange against the black—the diamonds morphs into a spider—the hat fades into tousled wet black hair—her candy voice turns bitter and her words go from one thing to “Quiet. Mi Amor Callado…”)

Mouth turns dry. Something yanks instead his chest, the air sucked out like a vacuum was shoved down his throat and turned on high. Disgust and fear dance across his skin and he couldn’t hear what was coming out of Harley’s mouth when he nearly stopped breathing, but he sure as hell heard his voice, quaking and cracking under the panic that erupted from inside him.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”

He hit her too hard. Dick knew he did. His elbow connected with her chest at rocket speed, possibly stabbing her in the neck in the process, and sending her sailing across the floor. Harley’s yell was cut off when she hit the ground with an ugly loud thud, her skull hitting the floor first. It took longer than it should have for Nightwing to stand and his legs were much too unstable, much too weak, for him to carry himself and he found himself just barely able to stumble over to her before crumbling down.

His hands trembled when he reached for her pulse. He could barely breathe, much less figure out whose heartbeat was aching through his fingers tips and pumping his ears. Doesn’t matter though; her chest is rising and falling. Only unconscious—but he was swaying like some drunk off the street and wasn’t getting much better.

In the end, when he could hardly string zip ties over her slack wrists, Dick had to call in for someone on the comm—he wasn’t sure who—to come in and take her in. After that, he turned it off and bolted, feeling the raising bile racing up from his stomach at an alarming rate as the memories flashed and rain, thick and blurring, blinded him as he swung off a cable.

He had been in no shape to do that (slipped and fell, he could have slipped and fell), but flying was second nature and he needed it at that moment. He had needed freedom.

(“We’re free now…”)

Good God.

That’s when he let go of his cable and descended clumsily to the nearest roof top to dispel the contents of his stomach. And that’s where he had stayed for…he doesn’t know how long. Minutes? Hours? One? Two? Four? It was cold and it was wet, but Dick couldn’t bear to move his protesting body as he balanced himself on his arms and knees and started sobbing. He hacked and coughed violently, inhaling dry air despite the dampness around him. He ripped off his mask when the tears became too unbearable and began to burn.

“…breathe…breathe…please breathe…” He muttered to himself, gloved hands scraping up gravel beneath him, “…please…please…pleasepleaseplease…”

All he wants is for it to all go away again. Go away with the rest of the terrors—the deaths, the beatings, the moments he didn’t want to wake up, the points where he just didn’t know anymore—where they belong. Nightwing didn’t have bad thoughts, damn it. Those scars were for Batman and Red Hood, who reveled in their darkness and their hell raising rage. It was for Red Robin and Damian—for Roy or even Donna.

This wasn’t supposed to happen to Nightwing—the hero everyone trusted and relied on.

It wasn’t even what he thinks it is, he tells himself—it was just sex, he tells himself. Sex that he didn’t enjoy.

But he knows.

Sex doesn’t degrade him

Sex doesn’t ooze with sickness, control, and violence.

Sex doesn’t make him beg in a whisper for her to stop moving, please stop moving—no more, please don’t touch him—

He screams when he vomits this time, crying pathetically like a child waking from his nightmares. He drags himself into a ball, the strange comfort to him is the thunder crashing in the distance—like a beacon of reality through his fever dream—and lays there, shaking, gasping, and wishing for this to pass so he can get back his feet and he can put on a smile from there.

Push it back, push it back; ignore it, ignore it, ignore it…

“Dick.”

It’s like a summer day has come to him when the hand lays against his cold cheek, nimble fingers sliding in his hair. Nightwing gulps air as he looks up, overlooking golden skin and the blazing orange hair that paraded like fresh sunlight, to meet perfect green eyes. It doesn’t register in his mind that’s she’s here, regarding him with unguarded concern, but then nothing is registering on his mind at the moment. Her lips move. He thinks he sees his name being formed, and a second hand cups his other cheek, warming him up despite the storm.

Kory’s hands grab his and gently coaxes him up until they’re both standing up, however Dick may relay most of his weight onto her. “Dick, what is wrong. Are you harmed?” She says slowly, examining his body.

No, he shakes his head and tries to stop her wandering eyes. “I’m…” He squeezes her arm, trying to reconnect to what was going on. “What…are you doing here?”

Confusion flashes across her face and Dick knows that he’s forgetting something already, but he can’t care to remember. He tries walking back, letting go of her hands, but he almost trips and Kory’s arms are back around his torso. “You are hurt!”

“No…no, ‘m not. Have to go back to patrol…” Bruce’ll be pissed if he doesn’t finish his round. Have to scan the east side just in case. Double check. Have to go.

Kory pursed her lips. Her hands locked around his arms, “Dick, according to Oracle the patrol had ended two hours before. Everyone has been looking for you. We are very concerned.” She pauses and flicks his bangs off his cheeks. “Friend, you are soaked. Please, you will get sick if you stay out here.”

Dick had already been swearing at himself for his mistake and turned his head away, glaring at the ground. This wasn’t good; he couldn’t leave half the city unchecked because he was acting like an idiot. Ignoring Kory increasing worry, he tried moving again, however she had not gotten a death grip on his arm and he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Still, that didn’t stop him from trying.

“Kory…I gotta…”

“Come to my apartment.”

It was abrupt and random enough to startle Dick somewhat out of his stupor and he gave her an incredulous stare. She spoke as her grip gradually lessened, “It’s very cold and it is very close. I have cereal and we may watch the television and you can take a shower to feel better…”

“I don’t…I’m…” not well, he wanted to say, but his voice died and Kory’s chimed in with a pleading, “Please?”

He closed his eyes and breathed in deep, sliding his hand down to hers and entwining their fingers, desperate as he was to hide the shudder. “Okay…”

He didn’t know who was more relieved, him or Kory.

—

The apartment is warm and inviting, but that’s because it’s Kory’s. Everything she touches sings with love and care, even down to the way her towels are softened. It reminders Dick of much less chaotic days, back when they were just kids and the world wasn’t dark enough yet to block out his light.

Kory had gotten this place when she had made something of a relationship with Jason and decided she wanted to be closer to her partner in crime-fighting. Dick hadn’t bothered to acknowledge its existence before—in fact, this had been the first time he entered it. Yet, when he came out of the steaming hot shower, he found clothing had been placed out for him. Sweatpants and a night shirt that fit him perfectly, if not a bit loose around the waist like he liked it—and it feels like it really was the old days again, right down to the sweet humming from the other room.

When he enters the living room, he hears movement in the kitchen, clattering of bowls against tiled counters. “Kory?” He calls. He barely takes a step towards the door before he hears Kory answer, “I shall be right out!” There is more clattering and he hears Kory grunt something Tamaeran.

Dick shrugs and walks to her couch, sinking numbly into the nude colored cushions. He sets his eyes on the large plasma television across from him and peers blankly into the black screen. Barely, he can see the rain from the windows behind it, splashed with water and misting the image of his city until it looks like a painting gone horribly wrong. For a second, he mind flashes back to another night like this and he has to sharply inhale to the blink the thought away, turning his eyes to the TV again as his blunt nails big into his knee.

“I have found it!” Kory sings as she floats in, breaking the deafen silence. Dick turns only a bit to watch her come. She has removed her armor in trade of a cotton pink shirt that barely covers her thighs. Her arms are full. Milk and a bright blue bowl in her right hand, cereal and spoon in the other. “I am sorry. I seem to have decided to hide your bowl. I am happy I did not lose it.” She says as she swoops down beside him with a bright smile. “It has been too long since you visited.”

Dick can hardly offer the same smile back. It must look as fake as it feels.

Still, Kory doesn’t seem to notice as she hands him the bowl and a spoon to him. “I did not have the flakes that are frosted, but I do have this delightful one with the little green Irish man on it.” She holds up the box of lucky charms, “The marshmallows are quite delicious and colorful, so I hope you do not mind.”

“I-it’s fine, Kory…” Another fake smile, “I’m an all cereal man, you know—it’s almost surreal, huh?” The joke falls flat between them and Dick knows it by the way Kory’s smile tries it’s hardest to not fall off.

He coughs, trying to diffuse the awkward air, and reaches for the box. “Can I…?”

Kory hums, her lips inching down, “Yes, of course. Here.” She gives him the box and leans against the cushion.

They sit there together as Dick pours the cereal and then the milk in, getting it to ratio that he has come to like. Scarcely though, he does not have the stomach for any food and he ends up just stirring the contents around absent-mindedly. He manages to get one spoon full down, but it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and he can already feel his stomach disagreeing with the new contents. He drops the spoon back into the bowl and just stares at it as Kory goes on watching him.

“Would you like to watch some of the television? Jason has told me you enjoy the HBO these days.” She asks after a few minutes.

Dick shakes his head, biting the side of his cheek, “No…thanks. Don’t really feel like it right now…”

Her hand rests on his wrist, “Ah…then, perhaps you and I can just sit? That would be nice, yes?” Dick can see her smile out of the corner of his eye, the way it’s trying to left reassuringly for him. Again, he tries to meet it, but doesn’t think he deserves it and it falls lackluster while he shrugs his answer.

Silence comes again but at least this time it’s breathable. Dick knows he shouldn’t, but he fixes his eyes on the window again and counts how many rain drops splash against the glass. When he loses count, he starts all over again, his lips moving to the drum rhythm they make. It keeps him grounded and his mind from wandering back to the alley way where he shoves the monsters back. He feels Kory’s thumb brush back and forth over his knuckles, soft despite how hard her skin has become.

Dick lies back, listening to the rain and feeling Kory’s warmth, and thinking that he did it, he has made through another one of these lame spells—he’s not that weak, this is nothing, he’s really okay.

Until the thunder claps and the lightening cracks the sky in a brilliant flash of light. It catches him off guard and all the white light drags him back down, down, down. Down to the stairs where Blockbuster lies at his feet, his grin still chewing at his soul, and the blood oozes off Dick’s hands, down his face, over his eyes, into his mouth. He gargles spit and blood.

God. He can’t breathe again.

He feels himself running up, up, up, up—up all the way into the night, but there is no bats to shelter him, no hand to grab, no cape to hide under. The rain washes over him, cleaning the blood, but he can still see it everywhere.

So sorry.

He’s so sorry.

Failure. He failed. He failed them all. So sorry he failed, Bruce. Don’t go. Don’t leave. Don’t—

(“Don’t talk to yourself, Querido. Talk to me…”)

There’s weight on his shoulder and Dick knows, rationally, that it’s only Kory resting her head on his shoulder. It shouldn’t bother him, but it does.

The rain. The air. Her voice. Blockbuster’s smile.

Being pushed down, down, down, down!

Oh, fucking Jesus!

“No! Don’t!”

His hand flies into Kory’s face viciously; hard enough that if she had been human, he could have broken her nose or given her a black eye. He jumps up, the bowl falling from his lap and splashing milk and cereal all over the floor as he dashes away from.

Dick grabs his throat and begs his legs to refill. He turns and cowers like a child.

“Dick?!” Kory Is floating, her voice coated with worry. “What is it? What is the wrong?”

He feels her moving and throws his hand toward her. “Stop!” Dick can see his hand trembling and he knows that his voice is doing so as well. “D-d-don’t. Please.” His voice sounds small, pathetic, like a little boy crying over the dark.

It’s so disgusting.

Dick wants to vomit, again.

Kory lands on the floor and slowly shows him her hands. “Okay. I will not. I will stay here.” She speaks slowly and softly like one would speak to a child. Her knees bend and Dick’s breath hitches in his throat, so Kory stops and shows him her hands again, “I am just going to pick up the bowl, friend. Do not be scared.”

Dick’s guard is up as she bends again and gently picks up the bowl, safe from injure when it landed on her plush carpet, and put it down on the coffee table. She stands to her full, impressive height once more and lets her hands rest in front of her in plain view. She smiles. “There. Isn’t that better?”

Dick’s glance dashes from Kory’s face to the bowl to her hands and back her face. His brain begins to click back the pieces as the images of the rain gives away to warm light and he falls right back into in the present.

It was the past.

This is now.

Kory is not a danger.

And he just acted like an idiot in front of her. Damn it. No.

He breathes in sharply and releases a shaking laugh, though his eyes remain wide. “S-sorry, Kor. N-nights like this make me…” His skin itches as Dick looks for a word that would help diffuse this situation. His eyes are still wide, moving over everything as if it were a threat. He licks his dry lips and gives her a phony smile, “T-touchy?”

Kory hums and nods her head, “I understand. I am sorry I did that…” She lets her eyes drop to the floor, as if letting Dick have some dignity, but even with that small smile on her lips, Dick knows she’s thinking. He never could tell what—for someone who wore everything out on her chest, Kory knew how to lock him out—but it’s there, working inside her head and it was making him want to run again.

His heart started to drum inside him, pounding over and over in his ears. He should leave. Go somewhere. Hide.

“L-listen, K-Kor. It’s not big deal. I just…uh…”

“Dick. Are you okay?”

The question catches him off guard and Dick snaps his head up in response. Kory’s smile is gone and her face has begun to crumble into terrible grief. He can tell she’s put something together in her head and what she’s thinking…well…whatever it is to make his shining star look like that must be anguished imagery.

It’s all his fault. He’s done it again.

Dick swallows and tries the phony smile again, just in case it might work like it does with everyone else.

(He always says he’s fine and they all believe him. Tim. Babs. Bruce. Roy. They hear fine and leave him be because he’s supposed to be fine, damn it. It’s his job not be a screw up—)

“’Course I am. It’s just a little snap, Kor. No harm. No foul. I’m as right as rain.” He says and then he laughs at his own joke.

“Dick. Are you okay?” Kory repeats herself and her voice sounds so urgent, it crushes Dick.

He laughs again, but it’s dead and weak and drowned by the storm outside, “Kory, it’s fine. Really. You don’t—“

“I do, Dick. I know many things.” She floating again, her hands out trying to reach for him. She doesn’t move an inch besides that. “And you know you can always talk to me, correct? I am here for you and always will be.”

Dick looks at her hands and he closes his eyes, gritting his teeth. “Kory. Stop. Please.” He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want any of this. He doesn’t want to be this pitiful loser freaking out, hurting people, and then nearly crying in his ex’s house. He wasn’t supposed to be in this situation. He was Nightwing! He was the one who did this for everyone else! Not the other way around!

He wasn’t—

He wasn’t a—

He would never be—

Kory clenched her hands in fists and drew them back towards her chest. “Okay. I will stop, my friend. Anything for you. May I, though, ask you one question?”

Dick opened his eyes and stared at her green ones, so earnest and true and better than anything he could ever be. He didn’t hesitant because there is no point. Dick wanted this. He could deny it but he knew this is what he wanted for a long, long time.

“Yes.”

—a victim.

“Did someone hurt you?”

It drops like a bomb between them and burst open the festering wound Dick has been trying to close for two years now.

Because the word ‘hurt’ is different for Kory than it is for most people. Kory doesn’t get physically hurt and if she does, she deals with it; physical pain is a minor problem for her. No, hurt means something else to Kory. It’s the nights when Dick has woken up to the shower blasting full speed and Kory’s in there under boiling hot water, scratching at her own skin with soap until she finally bleeds. It’s the times when she couldn’t be touched by anyone but Donna and when Dick asked, the warrior would shake her head with a miserable expression and tell him it’s not hers to talk about.

It’s that kind of hurt.

It’s the hurt which descends upon his mind and he sees the rainy nights again, drowning in Blockbusters blood, and she’s there holding him down and smiling at him.

“Yes.” Dick almost wishes he could throw up right now instead of speak. “Someone…someone hurt me, Kory…”

The body heat radiates off the alien woman as everything seems to almost begin to ignite. Her green eyes flicker light and energy begins to pour out of her fingers tips. She’s just barely holding it all together; too be honest, Dick wouldn’t mind right now if she took them in a gigantic nuclear explosion. Then, she looks at his face and the way his body, so normally open and welcoming, was not closed off. She breathes out; her eyes stop glowing, the energy vanishes like vapor, and the temperature in the room drops back to normal.

“Who was it?” She asks.

“Tara—“ The name nearly fell out of his mouth so fast, he could barely stop himself. Even the thought of it makes his mouth taste like ash, “You don’t need to know. She’s…locked up now. Won’t be out for life.”

“Oh…okay…”

He hopes that will be enough for her. He can’t tell her. He won’t. He knows Kory. More importantly he knows what she would do to her if he gave her a name. And he can’t be part of something like that again. Last time, he nearly died.

He’s not sure if he ever stopped dying.

Kory becomes quiet, her eyes downcast in thought. The rain was still going outside, still a curtain of water that never seemed to stop intruding on Dick’s life. He thinks this might be his chance to leave, now that Kory isn’t asking anymore. He knew if he walked away now and left, Kory wouldn’t stop him.

He could go and leave that small bit information with Kory and trust it never come up again.

He should go, but he can’t find the will to move his legs. He stays in his spot frozen stiff, trapped in his own body because some part of him just isn’t done yet.

Kory speaks again, “Would you like to tell me what happened?”

He doesn’t think. He just laughs, “It wasn’t anything…” It was. A lie. Why was he lying? “Back in Blüdhaven I had some trouble with a crimelord named Blockbuster who was out to get me…Ta—The woman was a newbie. Some kid in over her head. I got her involved, let her in when Blockbuster got the best of me and…” His voice cracked, the memories flashing before his eyes again. He pushed them. He had to. He couldn’t stop. “I walked away and let her shot him…”

It kills to say that; it kills more for that to be the thing that makes Kory move toward him. He puts his hand up to stop her. He’s not done.

“After…I was on the roof…I couldn’t really think and she was there and…” He sighs and says with so much shame, so much disgust, “we had sex…”

“…Dick…” Kory sounds like she could start sobbing. So could he.

“I mean, it wasn’t good sex. Really bad actually.”

“Dick.”

Talk. Talk talk talk.

“I guess I just couldn’t preform. We were both really out of it and she wasn’t thinking and, you know, I should have said no.”

“Dick.”

Keep on talking, Grayson. Do what you’re best at. Make her believe he’s just overreacting. He is, after all.

“I think it made her better. I think…”

“Dick.” Kory’s hands are there, fashioning around his shoulders like indestructible steel chains. It’s strong enough to give him leverage and stop his mouth. He didn’t even realize he had been staring at the ground the entire time—doing anything not to look at her eyes. Now he sees why when Kory’s eyes are shining with unshed tears.

“Kory, I—“

Kory squeezes his arms when she speaks, “Dick, listen to me please. I am your friend and I know—I truly know—that you believe the things you say; but they are not true. Do you understand me?” Kory says, shaking his a tad when Dick involuntarily tries to move back. “You know deep down this is not sex, sweetheart.”

“No, it is, Kory.” Let him believe, Kory. Don’t wake him up, Kory. Please, Kory.

“No, it is not it. You know how sex is. You know the feeling. The way it makes you feel for even one second. You know it’s more than just love or lust—it’s sharing yourself with someone else to feel pleasure.” She rose off the floor and pressed her forehead to his, leading him her warmth as the chills began to freeze him insider. Her hair fell over him, sheltering him, letting him feel safe on the outside when his insides were destroying themselves, telling him to flee every which way. Dick shut his eyes and he whined, curling his fingers in her hair and feeling home in his torment. “My darling Dick, you taught me better than anyone else what sex truly is. We learned it together. What you had…what she did to you on that night was not sex.”

Dick groaned and clenched his teeth, rushing his hands to his ears. “It was!”

“It was not!” Kory nearly yelled, but she pulled it back. “You did not want it. You did not wish for it. You could not say no, Dick! You have to see it for what it is or you can not heal. You did not have sex with her. It was—“

“Stop! Stop! God, stop it!” He thrust himself from her by putting his hands on her chest and stepped away with weak legs. Dick laughs in despair and smiles when he feels like he’s about to cry, his lips trembling and his eyes wide. “Kory, you’re reading this all wrong, okay! It wasn’t like that. It was just non-consensual!”

It was said with such confidence, such undeniable truth, that Dick almost believed it. Then he hears the word fall between like a pin dropping and he stops breathing.

It sounds so ridiculous out loud. The last piece of his denial laid out for him to see and he can’t believe he’s so stupid. The words had the same meaning, the only difference that his word is so much nice than her word—it’s so much easier to say it and believe it means he still had room to be at blame in some way.

But he wasn’t. He basically said it.

Raped. He was fucking raped by Tarantula that night.

Kory is watching him, her face twisting from the expression of pity and regret and knowing.

Dick touched his touch lips and put his palm over his open mouth, physically attempting to hold back the pitched keens coming from him. “No! No! No! Nononononono!” His knees begin to give away while he begans to bang his wrist against his head over and over again. “Not me. It can’t be that. It didn’t happen.” Hot tears begin to pour down his face, his nose becoming wet, his eyes burning as they overwhelm his vision. He looked at Kory, falling from his knees and cries out, “Please, Kory. That can’t be it. I don’t want it.”

If Bruce saw this, he’d frown. If Tim saw this, he’d say he needed to deal with it. If Babs saw this, she’d roll his eyes. If Jason saw this, he’d laugh.

Look at Grayson, crying like a baby over this. So much for the brighter side of things. Where’s that smile now, huh? Where’s the laughing and the puns? Isn’t he supposed to be the sun bringer, the ray of light in a dark room? Where’s the strength, now?

It was all a lie. He’s not as strong as he thought. He was never strong. He’s weak—and now he’s ruined.

There is pain on her face when she falls with him, catching him with her open arms so he doesn’t hit the crowd to hard (like she always does). One arm supports him, wrapping around his torso and taking his entire person into her chest, right about against her chest, where he could hear her heart beating erratically. He closes his eyes to it, fighting everything; her hand threads through his hair. He sobs and she shushes him, pressing her cheek to his crown.

“Oh, Dick. I do not want it either. How I wish it was not so. I would do anything in the world to take it away.”

It nags, some part of him, whispering that she lies. She’ll get angry. They always get angry. She’s gotten angry before and blamed him. It’ll be just like that now.

She says, but if she’s right, what about Mirage?

Dick fists her hair, “I-i-i-t can’t be like this, Kor. I-i-it wasn’t l-l-ike this before.”

Kory’s hand stops moving and she lifts her head, “What do you mean ‘before’?”

“Mirage.” Dick answers and he sits up, looking at her with glassy, lost eyes and a devastated face. He peered not at her, but through her, like he was blind. “Remember? She slept with me disguised as you.”

When he spoke, Kory looked confused, as if she had forgotten dumping him because he didn’t know it was her. “I…am aware. You said she looked like me, so you slept with her and I…”

Something burned hot and bloody red in Dick’s chest and now he doesn’t want to cry and freak out. Suddenly he was enraged by the woman in front of him. Now she’s concerned for him? Now? What about then. “No, I said she tricked me, Kory! She came into our room acting and looking like you so I would have sex with her and then she laughed in my goddamn face when she told me! I didn’t fucking know!”

Now it’s Kory’s turn to stop breathing. Her body freezes as the true dread washes over her like a wave, eyes wide in shock.

Dick tsks and gets up, now having the strength of the wrath boiling in his veins, and loomed over her seething. “I told you! I told the entire truth, I didn’t leave out one detail.” He was so desperate now, his voice raw with emotion; all he wanted to do was for someone to feel what he was feeling rig now. “And you told me I didn’t understand! You yelled at me and dumped me when I was trying to get you to feel better over me being violated! Do you have any idea how that made me feel? You were the person I believed in the most and you threw me away like I was trash!”

Kory jumped up, her own tears falling down her face—her’s, though were from the shame she felt. “I did not know!”

“NO ONE EVER DOES!” Dick screamed at the top of his lungs. “IT’S NOT AN EXCUSE!”

Kory steps back far from him and puts her hands on her chest again. She’s crying so much but Dick doesn’t care. He’s so angry and all he wants to do is scratch of his skin until it’s all gone. So he yells instead, “Just cause I smile doesn’t mean I’m okay! I’m not! I don’t like being treated like I only have one damn emotion—like I’m Prince Charming and all anyone wants me to do is grin and bear it and let them see my ass! They have all the answers! Be the good guy! Look good! Laugh when a group of women ogle me as I walk by and talk about me like I’m some object because they’re not objectifying me, they’re just “appreciating” me! It’s like a joke to them! I’M NOT A FUCKING JOKE, KORY!” He swings his arm out and it smashes into the lamp by the couch. Distantly, they hear it shatter, but neither of them move to pick it up.

Kory’s stopped crying. She looks him in the eye, “I know.”

No, he doesn’t want that. He didn’t want her to accept it and apologize—he wanted her to fight with him, make him want to attack her so that he could smash something until everything was wrecked and destroyed.

He wanted to hurt everything.

He stops and breathes deeply and exhales slowly. The anger starts pouring out of him too soon and all he’s left with is the exhaustion. Slowly, he turns his back from her, shaking his head. “What should I expect with the way I act? Guys like me have no room to talk. They were both just taking bad hints.”

He sighs, deflating himself and hugging his body. “I should have wanted it.”

“No.” Kory’s hand touches his shoulder, “Do not such say things. They are untrue as is the blame you throw upon yourself. You beat yourself up when you should not.”

Dick closes his eyes and digs his nails into his skin, “I shouldn’t have done with Mirage. I should have known. I’m sorry, Kory.”

Carefully, Kory spins him around and keeps him at arm’s length, “Dick. Look at me.” Dick opens his eyes and Kory speaks, her eyes brows knitted together and a frown fresh on her face, “Do not ever apologize to me or anyone else for what has been done. You are not at blame. I am.”

“Kory, you didn’t know.”

“No. I am the one who is sorry.” She lowers her head, “I was so angry at that time, so disbelieving of you. We were falling apart and all I could believe was that you were unfaithful—at the time, I was looking for reasons to be angry with you. I should have listened to you, not my anger. I was wrong to even think such a thing. You told me everything and yet I saw absolutely nothing. It was selfish. I was a fool, Dick.” She purses her lips, scrunching her face to keep from crying again, “I am so sorry, my friend.”

It hurts. Everything hurts. Hearing those words after all these years should heal something, but it does nothing. He still feels dirty and wrecked, his world a mixed up hell of mistakes and failure.

Dick grabs her arms and brings her closer so he could enclose himself in her warmth. “Kory, it hurts. I told you and it still hurts.” He whispers in a small, child-like voice, “Why won’t it stop?”

“That’s because it cannot.” Kory replies in a soothing voice, her finger caressing his cheek, “It will never stop. Time and love can dull the pain, however. Love can heal you’re most terrible scars. Love can do wondrous things for the soul. You can learn to see past it, just as I’ve done.” She takes her hand and presses it to his chest, over his heart, “It can go here with the rest of the terrible things, where they stay to remind you have how much you have lost and how much more you will gain. I do not look upon my slavery as a time that I was weakness. I look upon as my strongest moment—I could have died but I did not. I lived on. I thought I was ruined and now I am whole and not one of them can take it away from me. I am more powerful than they ever will be and, Dick, so are you. You’re here and that’s amazing.”

Dick looked down at her hand and swallowed, “You lived.” He said slowly.

Kory smiled and it was true, pure pride, “I lived.”

“Can I?”

“Of course you can. You have love, Dick. All the love you could ever need.”

He’s loved—by Kory and Bruce and Damian, Donna and Roy, Jason and Tim, Babs and Cassandra and Alfred, by Clark and Raven and Wally and Garth and Gar and Vic and Diana. He’s loved by his family and his friends and the world.

Damn it, Dick, you’re really loved.

The tears were coming back, but they were slower this time. Dick felt them trail down in a thick line which burned. He opened his mouth to speak and he tasted their saltiness, “K-Kory?”

Her smile widens and it looks like what love is like, “Yes?”

Dick smiles back and it finally feels true, even when he’s dying on the inside, “I was raped.” He cries and walks into her, grabbing hold of her entire body in a strong grip so that no power could tear her away. Kory wraps her arms around him so much gentle, yet so protective that Dick is sure nothing would even dare to break through. “I know, my friend. I am here. I always will be.”

Eventually, they’ll make it to the couch and Dick will fall into Kory’s lap with his hands wrapped in her hair. They’ll say very little, which is just fine because Dick’s tired of talking now. He stares out the window at the rising dawn that chases the night and her many demons away, the rain stops, and Dick smiles to himself, thinking that right now, he’s pretty close to being okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, it took eight months for me to write this and finish it and it was really hard. I did research on everything I could on this subject and tried to write this respect for anyone who suffers like this. If you feel I was disrespectful in anyway to rape victims, I am very sorry. 
> 
> That said, this was extremely fun to write. Terrible, I know but wow, I really enjoyed making this.
> 
> This is for Shadow—who inspired this and encouraged me to write it—and Narfi—who looked over some parts for me so I knew I was on the right track with Dick. I hope you guys like it.


End file.
